Morning Seems So Far Away
by idontneednoroad
Summary: So I'll sing a melody, and hope to God she's listening, sleeping softly while I sing and I'll be your memories, your lullaby for all the times hoping that my voice could get it right — Massie is hurting and Derrick will do anything to make things right before it's too late; he doesn't want to lose the only girl he's ever truly loved but doesn't know how far gone they are [slightAU]


**chapter one**

The hour struck one a.m. when a sluggish Derrick Harrington forced a hard shove of his right shoulder against the door leading into his dorm room at Cornell University — it had the nasty habit of getting jammed when slammed, and the music major -slash- soccer star took full responsibility. Next to him was his best friend and roommate, Cam Fisher, who was leaning against the white wall for support, his heterochromia eyes heavy-lidded, struggling to remain open, while his mouth rambled on a mile a minute, word vomit of every topic, off every angle, pouring from his drunken tongue. With one final slam, the door swung, flying to hitting hard enough against the wall that the entire floor would be woken up, and both boys came stumbling in — Cam directed himself straight for the bathroom, knowing fully well what was coming next now that the alcohol was uneasily settling in the pit of his stomach, while Derrick stood halfway between the dorm's door and the two single beds that the two adolescent boys slept on. He was dead-beat tired, but what, or more of _who_, prevented him from crashing for the night captivated his attention instantly; sobering at the mere sight of the brunette fast asleep on Derrick's bed, on top of his plaid comforter with her head nestled into the two pillows, her arm tucked neatly under her head for some kind of support that he never understood. She was still in the clothes he'd seen her wearing earlier, and he couldn't help but wonder just how long she'd been waiting in their dorm room — as well as how she'd gotten inside, unless she had accidentally slammed the door when she came back after the boys had left for a night of partying.

She looked so serene, so at peace.

Guilt coiled and constricted around his heart the longer his gaze lingered, he swallowed heavily as he slowly trudged his way across the room, feeling as if he was trying to run through the ocean just to get to her but was weighed down by his emotions instead of the salt water. She was still unconscious by the time Derrick stood beside the narrow bed what felt like a millennium later, and he just knelt down, resting both hands on the squishy mattress, his caramel puppy dog brown eyes intently locked on the beautiful girl.

She is so innocent, so untouched, so fragile . . . and he would hate to see her any different.

But as his thoughts flashed back to earlier in the evening, the coil tightened so ferociously around his heart, that he honestly felt like he couldn't breathe — his lungs deflated inside of his chest, anguish tugged harshly at his heart strings, oxygen struggled to circulate through his body. He could feel his skin turning blue, like someone's hand was crushing his wind pipe, but he knew that he looked perfectly find on the outside; there was nothing he could do, but he wanted to make everything right, he didn't want her to be corrupted by the inner turmoil and overwhelming emotions that would destroy everything that was Massie Block. There was a new, kinder, brighter light to his girlfriend ever since they started dating again in the ninth grade, making a bigger comeback than ever, remaining stronger than ever, but now, it all seemed to be slowly disintegrating before things could even start for their second semester of college now that winter break was over: entering the new year with a _bang_. He recalled just how cruel, malicious, and vindictive Massie had been in middle school and he knew that there was a strong possibility that she would be resorting back to that angry person — sure, things hadn't entirely blown out of proportion when they'd talked, but he was especially clairvoyant in this particular situation, he knew her like the back of his hand, better than her own best friends, and maybe even family.

Often throughout the day, he considered talking with her again, take a different approach, but he didn't have to be a rocket scientist to know that it would be a terrible decision for him to make — he'd said his words, he'd confessed his sin, he'd explained why he hurt her, and in return, he surprisingly didn't get a slap to the face. Instead, she'd just stormed out before he could see the tears coming in rivulets down her face. Because _that _was something he would honestly consider a good reason to kill himself; making _and_ witnessing this angel cry. He hadn't gone after her, he couldn't bring himself to do that, but Cam had suggested it would have been a good idea, though they knew he was lying — Massie was better off alone to let her emotions out before they got the best of her; she was strong, independent, and refused to let her guard down; that much of her hadn't changed since they were young, just like she refused to show her vulnerable side when she was hitting an all time low for a weak point. Namely, involving Derrick.

Slowly, Derrick got back to his feet, careful not to jostle the mattress while he regained his balance, turning an eighth of an inch on his heel to facing the window, grasping the handle piece of the window and sliding it up to being wide open — the air was brisk, but it was the perfect antidote to the flames of agony and torment that flared in the center of his chest to heating his entire body, while the mid-January sky was an inky black tinted with a deep midnight blue, glistening with little white dots and a waxing crescent moon. The tiniest of smiles twitched at the crease of his lips, thinking back to all the summer nights while they were down in Florida before coming back to New York for entering the new school year: lying on the back of Derrick's uncle's pick-up truck, a rooftop, or in the fields, staring up at the late summer sky as the stars started becoming more visible against the abstract colors, laughing to themselves as they started counting every time they saw a new star form in the distance. It was going to become nothing but a memory, and that's what Derrick feared most when it came to this girl he was so utterly, passionately, and irrevocably in love with; losing all that they had over something that seemed so stupid now, he wasn't even sure why he'd done it, and he was conflicted on whether or not things would be alright, if it was going to blow over; it wasn't like Derrick had cheated on her, but he knew that Massie took things to heart, and she was unpredictable.

Derrick knew he was going to do whatever it takes to keep her from turning into the person she used to be, he wouldn't let himself lose this, lose _her_.

He wasn't going to be able bear it, _nobody _would.

* * *

**author's note: **I'm changing pace, and I'm hoping that this story could really get somewhere. I was initially going to use it for the final chapter of my highly sexual Clique story, _Walk That Walk Like You Don't Give A Fuck_, but I felt that the meaning behind it showed far too much empathy, anguish, and compassion to connect with. So, after maybe a month or so, I've finally come up with this and I'm hoping that you enjoy this mini multichap.

Inspiration; _I Swear This Time I Mean It _— Mayday Parade  
Disclaimer; Characters belong to Lisi Harrison and her publishing company.

And, I'm sorry that the first chapter was so short, but I needed to get a start: I promise the next chapter will be longer.


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